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Between Heaven and Hell
Between Heaven and Hell is an encounter in The Battle for Krezzor. Enemies * Fallen Angel Caster (1235 Gold, 152 XP, 95 Energy, 7 HP) * Fallen Angel Warrior (1300 Gold, 160 XP, 100 Energy, 7 HP) Transcript Introduction Last night... "Hugh..." Rakshara took hold of his hands. Her touch was so gentle she might have been a gnome or a ber instead of an oroc. "You have to stay out of the battle." "Not a chance, love. If you're fighting, I'm not blooming well sitting on my backside. I'll be there to split the skull of any sodding fiend who looks at you the wrong way." For an instant the gravity left her pretty orange face. Hugh's dialect always brought a smile to her lips. But the solemnity returned a moment later, casting its shadow over her visage. "You..." Her lower lip trembled. And the Titaran understood. She couldn't bring herself to utter the words, to upset him by speaking of his weakness. Well, she wouldn't bloody well have to... Hugh winked. And his eyes burned with purple fire. Rakshara gasped. "Hugh! How-" "Old Brachus found a bit of his magic stuck in my bones. And he showed me how to bring it out." The lie gave him a twinge deep in his core. But she couldn't know the truth. And the radiant smile, the happiness and wonder in her eyes, told him that he was doing the right thing. "Then you can fight?" "Like a drunk at closing time." "And use magic?" He mouthed a kiss. Soft pink wisps drifted from his lips and tickled hers. "That means..." she began. Hugh grinned, and drew her into the purple bushes. *** "Your plan is as foolish as you are fat," the succubus said. "Just do what you're sodding told." "I-" "Go on then! Or I'll tell Brachus to put you on imp-shagging duty after the battle." The succubus gave him her most withering look -- which still somehow managed to be enticing. But she fell into place with the other demons. "They're coming, Hugh," Rakshara said. The oroc pointed her sword skyward, where winged shapes were descending. Hugh glanced at them, looked over his shoulder, and nodded. A collective, harmonic murmur rose from the demons. As the airborne beings drew nearer, their forms became clear against the emerald sky. Humanoid bodies hovered between the broad wings. Each had milky white skin, as pure and unblemished as ivory, girded in a short armored kilt -- which the females supplemented with equally reinforced bodices. Golden rings floated above their brows. Some of them brandished swords or spears and shields. Others carried long scepters. Their identity was as unmistakable as it was incredulous. "Never thought I'd be fighting blooming angels. Least of all in hell of all bloody places." As the heavenly beings came in range, one of them cast his spear. It whistled down from the sky, its path unerring -- until Rakshara batted it aside with her shield, and left it quivering in the grass. Another angel aimed her scepter. A bolt of golden light zapped towards the companions below. It flashed and sparked against a near-invisible dome of cyan energy. Hugh gestured with two glowing fingers. The angels muttered to one another in sonorous voices, their words inaudible but the debate clear enough. Its meaning and conclusion were proven in the next moment, when one of their number descended a little further amid sweeping flaps of his wings. "Sinners," he said, in a voice that reminded Hugh of temple bells, "leave this battlefield at once. Surely you don't believe you could contend with the host of heaven?" "Host of heaven? And who the bloody hell're they when they're at home?" "Us! We're angels, you fool! Look at our wings!" "Angels? Sodding funny place to find you lot, hell." The angel's face reddened slightly. "We're... we're doing Lord Karuss' bidding!" "Oh? Because the bleeding story I heard is that you pissed off from heaven without him knowing, and thought you'd try playing around in hell for a bit." "Um... well... What concern is it of yours, sinner? Go off and... and sin... or something." Hugh snorted. "Nice bit of advice from a bloke with wings and a halo. What would Karuss say?" "What the Lord of Light doesn't know won't hurt him!" "Huh? I thought the gods were blooming well all-seeing, and all that rot." "Lowly sinner! Such tales are told to frighten mortals into virtuousness! The gods see only what they gaze upon. And they aren't likely to stare into the wretched depths of hell..." "Unless something catches their sodding attention..." Hugh gestured. The demons behind him raised their voices, singing louder, until the words of their song reached the winged host above. "Fill your hearts with all his glory, Sing and praise the Lord of Light, Walk untouched through battles gory, As the wicked he does smite. All the shadows he does banish, Bringing light where there was dark, Lo! The evil-doers vanish, Seared away by our god's mark. Praise him when in darkest danger, Call upon his shining light, To the pious he's ne'er a stranger, And your foes he's sure to smite. Praise him in times of sorrow, Take comfort in his golden might, Always there's a brighter morrow, For those who kneel in his light." "Something like a bunch of bloody demons singing a hymn maybe?" Hugh asked. The sky crackled. The angels gazed heavenward and gulped. Then the lightning came. Crackling bolts zapped them one by one, and they fell -- their wings torn and smoking. Their halos snapped in a series of soft plinks, tumbling away in blackened halves. Their flesh darkened, the alabaster hue eclipsed and flooded by tones of red and purple. Tails slithered from the base of their spines, lashing the air as they plunged towards the purple grass. A series of thuds marked their descent from the sky and from grace. The male who had spoken to Hugh was the first to push himself up from the ground, groaning and twitching. "Damned! We've been damned!" "Oh, it gets worse, mate." Hugh and the others advanced, brandishing their weapons. Conclusion "Save me, O Karuss!" an angel wailed. "Surely you're all-forgiving!" "Don't know about him," Hugh said, "but we're bloody well not." His cleaver split the angel's skull. "Mercy, you heartless bitch!" another screamed at Rakshara. "Mercy!" Rogar's Dream pierced her heart. Soon there was only one left, the angel who had argued with Hugh. He knelt on the grass, his hands pressed together in entreaty. "Wait! Wait, I beg of you! Let me make my peace with Karuss! I was one of his favorites! He'll spare me!" Hugh looked to Rakshara. "We might as well," the oroc replied. The Titaran grunted. But he gestured for him to proceed. The angel coughed, before breaking into song. "Praise him when in darkest danger, Call upon his shining light, To the pious he's ne'er a stranger, And your foes he's sure to smite. Praise him in times of sorrow, Take comfort in his golden might, Always there's a brighter morrow, For those who kneel in his light." He stared up at the sky, a hopeful expression on the face which was now red in hue but still angelic in feature. The angel laughed and raised his arms aloft when the green sky began to swirl and shift. A great glow illuminated the heavens. It resolved itself into the shape of an immense hand of pure golden energy. "Karuss! He's going to save me and smite you all! He's..." The joy drained from his face when the hand turned, so that its back was facing the realm below, and the first two fingers extended in a 'V' shape. The hand vanished. The angel wept. Hugh raised his cleaver. Category:The Battle for Krezzor